Segreti Brillante: Escape From House Starish
by Intoxicated Gnu
Summary: Tokiya finds out he won't be able to sing. Things go downhill from there. Not one to be snubbed, Shining Saotome has something more in store for poor Tokiya, who will probably be just fine as long as he can escape.


Tokiya grasped at his throat, burning holes into the sky with a withering stare. Just as he had learned to put his _feelings_ into his music and everything was set for the concerts, the singles, the whole shebang… he had lost his voice. It'd had a sort of funk to it for a few days, he'd begun to notice during practice, and he thought he might have caught something. As it turned out, the best he would be able to do would be to talk in a horrible voice for the rest of his life.

He was going to take it one step at a time: leave the band first and then decide whether or not he wanted to quit in a suicidal rage. He felt all too petty standing before the gates and trying to plan out how he could get to his room without encountering anyone, and he was all the more annoyed about not having a plan of what to do if he did because he was always a people magnet whenever he didn't want to be. He didn't want their pity, though. He didn't care to say goodbye. It wasn't as though he could.

Tokiya forced his hand down, hoping nobody had caught him spacing out like that. There was no faster way for someone to assume something was wrong with his voice. He let himself in, trying not to jump when the gate creaked the loudest way it possibly could. His footsteps sounded like they were being echoed. He was much too paranoid. He was pretty much boned.

He peeked around the corner. Nothing. That meant everyone was inside. Cursing his luck, Tokiya tried not to look utterly suspicious as he re-rounded the corner and entered the building. As he shut the door, his heart thumped at the expectation of being greeted just then. Again, nobody was there. Tokiya forced himself to take a deep breath through the stabbing pain in his throat.

He crept down the common room, looking rather like a child trying to catch Santa Claus. Careful steps accompanied his rigorously shifting eyes. A sharp sound pierced his ears as he began past the television. Tokiya halted, a choked whine battling through his jagged, gravel-filled potato sack of a throat. He made a sharp turn towards the offending noise with a stunned pose that made it clear he had been doing something wrong. The scared deer look faded when he saw that, still, nobody was there. Tokiya was now facing the kitchen door. He shuddered to think of what went on within, quickening his pace to pass the room.

The hallway seemed to extend to the entire length of the house, its glossy, clean floor mocking his desperate need to reach his bedroom. He sucked in a breath, coughing with the sudden rush of cool air as he moved one foot forward, bracing his toes for the impact of the newly polished wood and the multitude of terrible things that could happen as soon as he tried to walk by someone's door. It was going to be a trying process, he decided after that dreaded first step. His room happened to be the last door on the right. He cursed that fact, the new urgency overriding his original intent to be as secluded as humanly possible in cohabitation with his bandmates.

He passed Haruka's room first, expecting to hear her practicing a new melody. He often heard her voice coming from the room late at night when he snuck out to get some fresh air. Alas, no Haruka was heard. Next was Masato's room, which Tokiya wasn't particularly worried about since if anyone, the person even less socially capable than himself would not bother him. After that was Ren's. Tokiya didn't have to worry about Ren too much, since he wasn't a hot girl.

But then came the worst room of all: Shou's room. At least, it was supposed to be. Most of the time, Natsuki intruded on the poor midget, enacting all sorts of torture which nobody ever did anything about. Tokiya was extra careful in passing this room so as not to get pulled into the chaos, which had happened before. Natsuki's room was only worrisome when Satsuki was around, but as the door was wide open and empty, that did not appear to be the case. Taking a final breath of air, Tokiya stepped towards Otoya's room. Otoya who always bothered him because he thought they were friends. Otoya who kept asking him if he missed being roommates, which he didn't. Tokiya was at least glad to be leaving the band for this: having his own room was temporary, only until Shining Saotome could get contractors to knock down the walls because having roommates inspired competition or something.

Finding something to be happy about for the first time that day, Tokiya walked past the room with a little more confidence. He didn't need to worry about people bothering him so much. He was just doing what he was doing and that was that. With a resolute nod, Tokiya reached his room, letting out a puff of air he hadn't realized he'd been holding in. As he shoved all of his things into his suitcase at the fastest pace he could keep them in decent condition with, he let out a tired laugh. What had he been worried about? It was early in the afternoon. The others were probably out for lunch. He might have even gotten an invitation, if only he'd bothered to check his phone. Or maybe they didn't bother because he always went and did his own thing. It looked like his luck wasn't so bad after all. If nothing, he had good timing.

Feeling better about himself, as long as he didn't have to think of what he would do after leaving, he heaved the suitcase to the floor and began to roll it out. His eyes scanned the small details of his room with a certain loneliness. Maybe he would miss it, just a little. But he didn't want to stay to explain. Again, he couldn't. He needed to leave before he did something silly like want to stay. This was what he thought up until he was grabbed from behind, his mind going blank with a rush of panic as the long hallway darkened before his eyes.

Sparks of pain shot up his back. He went to straighten it, eyes still lidded in sleepiness. How had he fallen asleep sitting up? Tokiya opened his eyes when he couldn't disconnect his wrists. They were stuck behind his back, and he had no idea where he was. He looked down at his lap, barely able to see his pants in the dim light. He couldn't see far beyond, the room fogged in shadows. His feet, too, seemed to be stuck together.

"Ichinose Tokiya," blared the menacing whispered voice of Shining Saotome through a loud speaker somewhere. "You shall not leave this band alive." The man laughed, his voice droning further off as he seemed to lean back. When his laughter had died down, he returned to being close enough to kiss the microphone. "SORRY, Ichinose Tokiya. I cannot allow you to break the agreement you signed when you joined this band." A rustling of paper could be heard from the other end. "I, Shining Saotome, have put my all into this group. I must protect it and myself. You see," the man began to explain, his voice taking on a tone of relaxation, "you now know my secrets. STARISH's secrets. I mustn't allow those to get out, Tokiya. That would be terrible press to receive so early. The things you know... I cannot allow you to leave."

Tokiya struggled to find the source of the noise, but Shining Saotome seemed to echo all around him. Agreement be damned, whatever this was wasn't legal. Tokiya pressed his lips together in frustration. The man couldn't be serious.

"BUT..." Shining Saotome heaved a sigh, pausing for dramatic effect. "Maybe you can earn my trust. I'm not an unfair man. If you can prove yourself _worthy_, perhaps you can save yourself. Good luck, Ichinose Tokiya!" The man broke into a hysteric fit of laughter which faded off, a blast of feedback ending the demonstration.

Tokiya winced at the screech in his ears. He didn't need to become deaf, too. As the voice failed to return and his immobility began to sank in, he bit the inside of his mouth in panic. How was he going to get away? Moreover, when had Shining Saotome been a gangster? Tokiya had always thought his secrecy was some strange marketing ploy, or even sadism, but nothing more. Taking controlled breaths, he inched his hands up to see how much he could move them. Once he understood his situation, he didn't seem quite as restrained as before.

Every muscle in his body seized when something grazed his finger. He could feel something crawl down it. His oxygen left in a harsh puff as it occurred to him that, even barely coming into contact with it, he was bleeding. Had he been more careless, how close could he have come to permanent damage?

It seemed that this was what Saotome has meant by "proving himself". But why? He did _not_ appreciate being toyed with.

Tokiya took in a slow breath. He didn't need to think about that. What he needed to do was get out of those ropes without killing himself. He started to bring his hands up again to find the blade, feeling the cold air for any presence of any sort. He flexed his fingers, biting down when, despite his efforts to be cautious, he gained another wound. It was a little larger, a nice slice on his pointer finger.

He grunted as he maneuvered to hold the back of his thumb against the side of the blade, his shoulders burning in protest against the way he was leaning. He tapped the dull metal to keep track of it and keep his skin away as he positioned his wrist binds on the blade. Once he thought he was in the right place, he folded his thumbs in and began to saw at the ropes, pulling his wrists apart to whatever extent he could before the blade did that for him. One by one, the rope strands fell away with a satisfying snap.

When the last of his restraints slipped off, he threw his mostly undamaged hands around to the front of him and rested his elbows upon his knees as he tried to catch his breath. He dared not move until he did. Once he found himself more or less prepared to move on, he felt around, pleased to find that his pockets had not been emptied. He was able to pinch the handkerchief in his pocket and pull that out. Tokiya wrapped it tightly around his hand wounds, which had yet to stop bleeding. Though he had gained a wider range of sight, all he could see was more darkness. There was nothing more, no matter how he strained to adjust.

It was time to free his ankles. He wasn't going to get very far by hopping. Placing the handkerchief on his lap, he reached down to feel for a knot. As he patted down the bonds, however, he found that they were not rope as his wrists' had been. His ankles were tied together with wire. He could not find a solid knot to work with and any attempts to pull at it would only result in more blood and failure to actually spring loose.

Tokiya's heart leapt into his throat. He hated himself for packing away his pocket knife. He had two options: feel around and hope there weren't spikes on the ground or swing around and use the same blade as before to break the wire, possibly falling out of his chair and breaking his head in the process.

He didn't want to leave anything to chance. That meant taking the sure route.

Bracing his hand on the back of the chair, he swung his legs to the side and steadied his breath, grabbing the bottom of the chair with his other hand. The cuts on his hands stretched with the pressure of his tight grasp. Tokiya tried to keep in mind the years of ridiculous training he'd received as he leaned back and spun himself onto his lower back so that his feet were in the air. How he still had the energy to do that, he did not know, but his body seemed to know that it needed to.

He was thankful for the shoes on his feet that he hadn't taken off upon arriving. With them, he could feel around without losing any more blood. Tokiya was tiring of the strange positioning and the time it was taking him to get away from that stupid chair. He wriggled, trying to reach the side that the blade had been on before. A breath of relief left him when he felt something stick in the sole of his shoe. He edged his foot over, letting the blade scathe each inch he got the closer to the blade being between his feet. He held that position, wondering how he was going to cut the wire without getting a good portion of the skin on his ankles sliced off.

Perhaps he should have considered that before deciding it was the only way.

But he had come too far not to try. He pretended he had more control over his movement than he felt he did, trying to tilt his ankles at the right angle to avoid hurting himself. There was a teasing push at the wires. Just a little more… Throwing caution to the wind, Tokiya pushed forth. He was unsurprised when the blade pressed into his ankle bone, yet couldn't help the hoarse yelp. As the wires had begun to be undone, he more carefully let the blade deal with the wires until they were loose enough to pull off.

Toiya allowed his legs to fall with a huff. He flailed as he tried to regain his balance, but the chair was already tipping over and he found himself sprawled on the ground, which was luckily free of spikes. He took a moment to pushed himself up and removed the rest of the wiring around his ankles.

There was a click behind him.

An ominous dread set in.

It was a spotlight. It failed to brighten the rest of the room, which was still obnoxiously dark and blinded him from whatever else he might want to watch out for. Tokiya cursed his inability to stand up to this man. He got to his feet, ignoring the aggravation it caused to his ankle. Upon closer inspection, there was an X under the spotlight; red tape.

He could no longer see the chair, the dim light disappearing with the click in the room. The red tape drew him in. He wasn't that bad off, just tired and a little beaten up. Whatever it was, Tokiya was as prepared as he would ever be for it, even if Saotome decided that his fate would be to have a piano dropped on him like a cartoon character. He narrowed his eyes as he stepped into the glowing light and placed his feet upon the red X.

No sounds, no sight. Tokiya wondered what he should be looking for next. Was something else hidden in the dark that he was supposed to find? How many more of Saotome's games did he have to play before he either was let go or _wasn't_? He started looking around for clues until something else caught his attention.

Cold metal against his head.

The click of a gun.

A slight laugh. "Wrong answer, Ichinose Tokiya…"

Tokiya's eyes blew up at their first sight: the headmaster's hand, the muscles twitching.

Moving to pull the trigger.

He closed his eyes, breath caught in his throat.

He could feel his pulse rising with every millimeter closer his end came.

A snap. Something struck his head.

"Happy birthday!"

Tokiya's eyes snapped open. The lights had come on. He could see the room, which he recognized as being their practice room. Balloons and streamers decorated the place. His bandmates stood around. Tokiya reached up and rubbed his forehead, pulling something from it.

It was a suction cup. Attached was a small banner with _Happy Birthday_ written in bright, cheerful letters.

Saotome tucked the gun into his pocket as the room filled with laughter. "Ichinose Tokiya!" he said in that familiar creepy voice, slapping a hand onto Tokiya's shoulder.

Tokiya jumped.

"Welcome to your surprise… birthday PARTY!"

Tokiya stared into nothing. "Wh… a… a?" he croaked in his horrible voice.

Haruka's grinning face came before him. "We wanted to surprise you. We did, didn't we? Didn't we?"

"Wow!" Otoya gawked, yanking Tokiya into an excited hug. "Look, guys! He's so happy, he's tearing up!" He joined Saotome in a laugh as he patted Tokiya's head.

Tokiya allowed it to hide his attempts to will away the tremors of fear still wriggling through his veins. The blusterous laughter of their headmaster was just the same as it had been through the speakers.

He pulled himself away and directed a bewildered gaze back to Shining Saotome, who inevitably knew of his condition by now. Why was the man mocking him with a party?

"We thought you might need some… cheering up," Saotome explained. "I knew it would take some hard work to set this up. I just knew we would have to take drastic measures." Saotome seemed especially pleased with himself. "I got my best man to play the doctor. Wasn't he wonderfully convincing?"

Tokiya looked as though he might kill the man.

Saotome didn't seem bothered. "Laryngitis is hard," he said sympathetically.

Tokiya's eye twitched. _Laryn…gitis…_

Before he could make a grab for Saotome's throat, a cake was shoved in Tokiya's face.

"Make a wish!"

Tokiya stared at the fire, the adrenaline that had kept him going beginning to fade into exhaustion.

"Yes, _Tokiya_," Saotome said, urging him on. "You've earned the deluxe prize. The super deluxe prize will wait until next year, assuming you can surpass your performance."

The others never knew why he had been quite as surprised as he had been on that day.

All Tokiya knew was that he had a long, _long_ career ahead of him.

* * *

Or is it just _my_ kitchen that makes noises when nobody's in it? DEMONZ in my pots, you guys! -sobs-

I can't believe I wrote and even finished this monster of a story. Huh...


End file.
